


Live, In Color

by EzraTheBlue



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, COOKING BLOG, Cooking Lessons, Developing Relationship, FFXV Minibang 2019, Fluff, Ignis has a cooking blog, Letters, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Prompto is smitten, wingman noctis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:48:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21947572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzraTheBlue/pseuds/EzraTheBlue
Summary: During his effort to get in shape, Prompto realizes he has no idea how to cook for himself. Then, he finds a fascinating cooking blog written by a certain Prince's adviser, and develops a fascination both with cooking... and with the handsome young Chef!(Written for the FFXV Minibang 2019!)
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 23
Kudos: 132
Collections: FFXV Minibang 2019





	Live, In Color

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the FFXV Minibang! I'm pleased to share it!
> 
> The art provided in this story was done by the lovely Jillus! (Twitter [here](https://twitter.com/Jillus)) Check her artwork out there, she's great!
> 
> Special thanks to [Callie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SongOfMarbule/pseuds/SongOfMarbule) for beta-reading, I don't know where I'd be without her.
> 
> This fic was one I'd been wanting to write for a while! I remembered watching FFXV Brotherhood and looking at Prompto's salad in his episode like "that is not how nutrition works, sweet boy," and then thought of how nice it would be for Ignis to (indirectly) teach him to cook.
> 
> Without further ado!

**Live, In Color**

So eating nothing but salads wasn't the healthy way to lose weight. Who knew?

Prompto fidgeted with the little plastic hospital bracelet dangling from his wrist as he gripped the handhold on the train car and heaved a sigh. He had been trying as hard as he could to eat healthier and exercise more. Salads were what people on diets ate, right? That was what skinny women ate on reality TV shows, "Just a salad please," they’d say. He'd made himself salads with tomatoes and cucumber all piled high in the bowl, no dressing - he had almost fainted when he saw the fat gram count on the dressing in the fridge - and ate them every day. Vegetables were good for you, he thought. 

Running was good for you too! Prompto ran every morning, and even tried harder to keep up in gym. That was how someone lived healthy, right? Eat healthy, exercise. Prompto thought he had it all figured out. 

Salads were good for him. Running was good for him. Prompto thought he was on the right track, until he fainted on the field in front of his entire gym class. Prompto woke in a hospital, on a nutrient drip, after being unexpectedly unconscious for five hours.

Apparently, his blood work was all sorts of messed up. He’d heard it before. It usually was when the school doctor drew his blood, telling him about how he was pre-diabetic, he had high blood pressure, his vitamin D levels were too low, all sorts of junk, usually leading to a lecture about eating healthier. Now, his blood work was all sorts of different kinds of messed up, with the doctor talking about electrolyte levels and iron deficiency, along with a bunch of stuff Prompto just couldn’t retain. When he told the doctor about his diet, the doctor told him he needed to eat healthy protein and carbohydrates. He gave Prompto a stack of pamphlets and called his parents (voicemail, of course, but they'd talk to him about it when they checked in if they remembered), and asked him to follow up in three months. Then they shipped him out, leaving Prompto staring at the hospital bracelet still rattling on his too-thick left wrist, and then the ratty sweatband on his right.

He officially sucked at _eating_. How much of a flop could a person be?

School was already in session when Prompto got home, so he spent the late morning and early afternoon reading the pamphlets and trying to piece together what they meant. He wished he'd had the nerve to ask the doctors more questions, but he quickly figured they had much more important things to do than talk to a stupid twelve-year-old who didn't know people needed carbs to be healthy. He'd kind of hoped his parents might call and talk to him, but the chances of that were honestly about as good as them showing up live, in person, to help him eat healthier. 

He could handle this on his own, just like he did most everything else these days.

Prompto did the next best thing to asking a human and turned to the Insomnet, pulling up Moogle. He typed in "how to eat healthy, kids," hoping that a specific search might give him good results. A few webpages popped up, but so did a MoogTube video titled " _Fit for a Picky Prince - Healthy Food Kids Love!_ "

Prompto clicked the video first. 

The camera faced a kitchen counter, and a boy only a little older than Prompto smiled from the screen. _"Hello! Welcome to Fit For a Picky Prince! Today, I'll be showing you how to make a carrot and ground bulette ragout so good that a certain picky prince I know won't even know there are carrots in it."_ He winked at the camera. Prompto couldn't help but grin.

He was handsome for a teenager, with rectangular glasses, honey-brown hair mostly tucked under a modern white toque (which looked more like a beret than the tall paper hats chefs in old movies wore), and wore a black apron over a white button-down. His eyes were so green they barely looked real. He looked like a real TV chef despite only being a little older than Prompto, and spoke like one, too.

_"I've listed the ingredients on the recipe page on my website, but I'll list them as we go. Please follow along, but remember you can pause the video. This recipe should take you about an hour to put together, including preparing the vegetables, but make sure to allow yourself a little extra time if you're a novice. Take your time, and remember, it's okay if it's not perfect yet!"_

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/185425540@N02/49267229701/in/dateposted-public/)

Prompto was rapt as the camera angle shifted to point down onto the counter to show the young man's thin, deft hands dicing through carrots and red peppers. He grabbed a little notepad and made notes, hanging on every word he said. The smiling man made little jokes as he worked - _"If you can, ask your butcher for coarsely ground bulette, but if you can't, fine will work. Don't just discard what you have if it doesn't match my recommendations. After all, a grind is a terrible thing to waste!"_ \- and showed different angles as he worked, and what the meal should look like at every step. Finally, it was done, a rich orange meat sauce that the chef poured over homemade egg dumplings - _"If you don't have time to make them, rice or pasta is fine-"_ and then said the most important part: _"This makes approximately eight servings, with approximately one cup per serving. You can freeze it for leftovers, too. I usually put it over about three-quarters of a cup of rice or pasta. This contains a full serving of vegetables and healthy lean protein each, and makes a complete meal with a proper serving of grains."_

Prompto gasped, and looked at the pamphlet the doctor had given him. The doctor had recommended he eat four to six servings of healthy whole grains daily, five servings of vegetables, five fruits, and three lean proteins. This chef had just ticked a bunch of boxes with one recipe! He was so smart! 

Prompto pulled the recipe up on the blog website and kept it open in one window so he could browse the rest of the website on the bus ride to the market.

His name was Ignis Scientia. He was _fourteen_ (wow!), and he was learning to be a personal chef as part of his duties to the Royal Family, and did the show and wrote the blog as practice. He had written lots of articles about healthy eating for younger people, including describing appropriate serving sizes for things like cereal and potatoes, and what counted as a serving of vegetables.

There was a photograph of him with Prince Noctis and a special message from King Regis thanking Ignis for his hard work learning to take care of Prince Noctis. 

Prompto almost tripped in the middle of the grocery store. Then he picked himself up and stumbled onward in his quest for ingredients. 

Prompto thought about it the whole way home, even as he opened the door with groceries in hand and hauled his tote bag to the kitchen. He turned his thoughts over in his head a few dozen times as he followed the recipe, watching the video and matching his progress with Ignis, sauteeing the onions and adding in the minced carrots and peppers, cooking down the ground bulette steaks, blending the sauteed vegetables and mixing it with the meat. He didn’t have the egg dumplings Ignis had made on the show, but he found some dry shell pasta in the pantry, measured it based on Ignis’ recommendations, and boiled it while the sauce simmered and finished. 

Prompto measured out one cup, like Ignis had said, and poured it onto the shells. Then, he compared it to the image Ignis showed of his finished product. 

Ignis’ sauce was smooth, creamy orange-red and laid silkily over the dumplings in an even coat. Prompto’s sauce was lumpy and chunky, and the color was more orange. Even so, it smelled _amazing_ and Prompto had seven more meals of it in little plastic boxes on the counter. He took a picture of it.

“Wonder what I did wrong.” He looked at the picture on the screen of Ignis Scientia’s perfect ragout. He had done his best to follow along, but some of what Ignis was saying had confused him, so at points he just followed along with the pictures. Maybe he just didn’t know enough about cooking?

He wished he could ask someone.

Then, he realized that maybe he could.

Ignis’ blog had a “letters to the author” link that provided an email address. Prompto uploaded his photo to his email, and wrote a quick message:

_“Dear Mr. Scientia:_

_I just found your blog and it’s great! I tried to cook something for the first time! It’s not as pretty as yours but that’s ok cause you said it doesn’t have to be perfect yet. I’m not perfect yet either. I think maybe it’s because I don’t know what a large dice is or a small dice. Could you please tell me what those are? I tried to follow the pictures though! I attached a picture of what I made (yours is way prettier) but I’m really happy I was able to do it! Thank you for making your super cool video!_

_Sincerely, Prompto Argentum”_

His finger hovered over the “send” button for a second. Ignis was probably a really busy guy, he probably didn’t have time to answer silly questions. But then again, he probably didn’t even really have time to read emails, either, did he? The worst thing that could happen is that Ignis wouldn’t answer his letter. Ignis probably wouldn’t have time to read it, let alone get mad at him for asking questions.

He hit “send.” Then, he sat down and ate his dinner. 

It was delicious.

* * *

Prompto found out that Ignis made a new blog post once a week, and a new video every other week. The next blog post, interestingly enough, was all about different ways to cut vegetables, with pictures of Ignis’ wooden cutting board with cubes of carrot:

_“A large dice is about a 1.5 cm cube._

_Medium dice is a 9mm cube._

_Small dice is a 6mm cube._

_If you need your vegetables extra tiny - and sometimes, I do! - a brunoise is a 3mm cube. Usually, however, I will just say to mince items that need to be this small._

_If your dice isn’t exactly even, that’s alright. The point of standard dice sizes is to make your vegetables consistent in size so they cook at the same time. Try to keep your vegetables close to the same size as one another. Some items, like broccoli and cauliflower, are unusual shapes and can’t be evenly diced. Chop the uneven parts to the approximate sizes, and chop the stems into proper dice.”_

There was even a very quick video of Ignis demonstrating each size of cut, trimming down the edges of the carrot and cutting the carrot into sticks, then into cubes. Prompto watched the video over and over, eyes wide.

It almost felt like Ignis was answering his question personally. 

* * *

Prompto kept trying Ignis’ recipes, following along with the videos whenever one came out. His never looked quite as nice as Ignis’, but they tasted as good as Ignis’ looked. 

He also got into a habit of taking photos of his work and sending them to Ignis, usually with a short message. Sometimes, he included a question.

_“Dear Mr. Scientia:_

_I made these skewers today! I think I might have overcooked them a little because they got chewy. Is there a way to tell when they’re done but not too done? They were still really good, I had them with some roasted peppers and it was a great meal!”_

The next blog post Ignis made mentioned how one could carefully touch chicken to feel for doneness. 

_“Dear Mr. Scientia:_

_I tried to make the spicy Daggerquill rice and it was basically the hottest and best thing I’ve ever tasted! Except I think I burned my mouth like six times eating it, and I let it cool but it was still SO hot? How do you eat it without catching your mouth on fire?? But it was so good I’m taking all my leftovers to school for lunch now!”_

Ignis posted a short list of “tips for dealing with a spicy mouth” the very next day, and Prompto bought cartons of milk to drink with his lunch all week.

It must have been a series of coincidences, because without actually reading Prompto’s letters or responding to them, Ignis was answering all of Prompto’s prayers. 

Prompto was dropping pounds like magic. No, not magic: hard work, healthy eating, and exercise were definitely the culprit, and it wasn't like it was all vanishing at once. He'd drop one or two pounds a week, sometimes three, and his weight loss only slowed when he got close to a healthy weight for his height. His appetite spiked right after his thirteenth birthday, and this coincided with a growth spurt, and after Prompto shot up about eight inches in six months, his weight was actually a little _low._

The school doctor told him at his yearly physical, for the first time, to gain a few pounds. 

Prompto could hardly believe it himself as he was fitted for his high school uniform and fit into a jacket off the rack, and when he turned around in the mirror of the fitting room, he could hardly recognize himself. The same went for when he went home that night and took a photo of himself in the mirror like he had every week for the last two years and change. 

He hardly recognized the chubby little kid from before. His sweatband was loose around his wrist now. Sure, he still had stretchmarks and he still felt like his middle was too chubby, but the school doctor hadn't said words like "pre-diabetic" or "high blood pressure" and he had seen so many pretty things to photograph while out running, and he felt a lot more confident every time he opened his door or his mouth nowadays. 

"And it's 'cause of him." He thought first of Noctis, his unspoken promise to Lady Lunafreya that he'd be a friend to him, and then of Ignis Scientia, the man who'd taught him exactly how to do it. 

Prompto checked the _"Fit For A Picky Prince"_ blog for an update and noticed that Ignis had posted an updated picture. He was seventeen now, somehow even taller than he had been, and his smile was sterner. He was lean, with a sculpted brow and jawline, a smooth mouth that looked graceful open or shut, and knowing, wise eyes behind dignified glasses. Not for the first time, Prompto found himself caught up by just how handsome Ignis was. It was almost unfair. How could someone be talented, charming, handsome, and apparently psychic?

"He'll never know how much he helped me." Prompto bit his lip, then looked back at the photos hung up on his mirror. 

He'd sent Ignis at least one email a week for the last two years. Ignis had never sent an email in response, and that was fine with him. Writing to Ignis was more like journaling now, sort of therapeutic, and while he hoped he wasn't spamming Ignis' inbox with his nonsense, it felt good to pretend that when Ignis made posts that happened to answer his questions or answered his questions in his video narration, that Ignis was listening. 

Prompto scanned his photos and typed almost without thinking:

_"Dear Mr. Scientia:_

_I know I usually send these emails about your recipes - but I guess this sort of is? I really just wanted to thank you. I had to teach myself to cook healthy meals because I was basically living on junk food. I was overweight, and it made everything else pretty bad. I couldn't talk to people because I was so insecure. Like, I tried to make friends with this boy at my school and he told me I was heavy, and I was so embarrassed! I didn't know what to do, and I knew even less of what to do when I started trying to eat healthy! When I started learning to cook, it was watching you and using your recipes. You made such tasty, pretty food, and you had all sorts of knowledge about how to cook and how much to eat and it seems like you always knew how to answer my questions. I attached a photo of me from before I started learning how to eat and started exercising, and another one of me today. I feel way better about myself. I'm not worried other people will look down on me because I'm heavy anymore, and I honestly feel healthier! I'm still not perfect, but I'm much better than where I started. Even my dishes look better!_

_Thank you so much for continuing to cook! I look forward to seeing more of your wonderful show!_

_Sincerely,_

_Prompto Argentum"_

Prompto attached one more photograph, his dinner from last night - a bulette and carrot ragout, silky smooth over luscious, dense egg dumplings, gleaming for the camera as sure as if he'd told his meal to smile. Then, he hit send. 

Prompto owed Ignis so much, and Ignis probably didn't even know he existed. Prompto told himself this was for the best, and went on with his life.

The next day, Prompto took the dive. At the end of his first day of high school, Prompto saw Noctis leaving school for the day, and ran up to him and slapped him on the back as if they'd been friends forever. The rest was history, because suddenly, they were best friends forever.

Prompto had never been more grateful for his own confidence, and life was sweet.

* * *

It was near the Solstice that Prompto checked the _Picky Prince_ blog and saw an announcement rather than a new recipe:

_"My cookbook, Fit For A Picky Prince - The Art of Sneaky Vegetables, will be on sale on 12/11!"_

"Oh, wow. Congrats!" Prompto said it aloud as if Ignis might hear, and peeked at the blog post, which contained a few promotional photos and some previews of the printed pages. The book would have a few never-before-seen recipes, too! Prompto pre-ordered it in an instant, then noticed the other part of the announcement:

_"In celebration of my first book and this blog's ongoing success, I will be hosting a cook-along livestream on Solstice morning, so you can prepare your family's holiday meal alongside me! Please tune in at 10:00 a.m. on 12/25/51 on this website! I will post an ingredient list on 12/18/51 so you can cook with me at home!"_

Prompto's heart jumped into his chest - a livestream! Watching Ignis work, live in front of him! And making a holiday meal so Prompto could cook along with him? Oh. Em. Gee. 

Except. 

Prompto went to the refrigerator to check the last note his mother had left when his parents visited home for a few days, two months prior. She’d made a note to keep the thermostat at 66 because the electric bills had been high the last winter, to make sure he paid the water bill on time, and to send her an email if he needed help with his Chemistry homework. Nothing about coming home for Solstice. They might show, but odds were even. Besides, they’d been home for a weekend two months ago, it was unrealistic to expect them back before summer. 

A holiday meal like that would be wasted on him, but it’d be nice to watch Ignis make one for his family. 

* * *

The big day of the livestream came. Prompto had purchased a one-person holiday meal from the local grocery superstore, but the actual stream started in the morning, likely so everyone cooking along had plenty of time to work and could scroll the video back if they needed to check on something. Prompto instead ate a piece of toast with spicy scrambled eggs after his run, then curled up in his living room with a mug of cocoa and his little notepad where he wrote down some of Ignis’ tips and tricks, and made the video window as big as he could. He could see the chat window busily scrolling already next to the empty video feed screen, and logged himself in just as the video image came to life. 

Ignis appeared in the usual elegant kitchen he always appeared in, standing in front of an oven and refrigerator, with a counter, a butcher’s block cutting board, and a burner cooktop in front of him. To Prompto’s surprise, Ignis himself appeared a little nervous, brow knit up as he adjusted his kerchief around his neck. A gruff, low voice sounded: “Iggy, you’re live.” Prompto got the vague idea it was Gladiolus, or Gladio, Noctis’ personal bodyguard and a big friendly bear of a guy who sometimes followed them to the arcade and thwomped both him and Noct’s high scores in Justice Monsters IV every time he played against them. Ignis looked up at his voice, and smiled for the camera.

“Can everyone hear me?” 

There was a shuffling noise, and Gladio responded with humor in his voice, “Chat’s goin’ nuts. I think you’re audible.”

Ignis laughed, and Prompto felt a spark in his heart. He’d known Ignis was handsome from those brief moments when he would show his face on screen instead of his work space, but when he lit up with laughter, he was on a completely different level of attractive. 

Prompto tried to remind himself to focus on the food and not the super hot guy making it.

“Very well.” Ignis clapped his hands together. “Good morning, and happy Solstice, everyone! I apologize that I won’t be able to actively respond to the chat, but I’m very grateful all of you are here! Thank you all for joining me.” He bowed, and Prompto grinned.

“Happy Solstice, Mr. Scientia,” he whispered. He debated putting it in the chat, but Ignis wouldn’t see it. The chat was going a mile a minute; Prompto couldn’t imagine any actual conversations were happening, and Ignis probably wouldn’t read it anyway.

“As my ingredient list suggested,” Ignis went on, “I’ll be showing you all how to prepare an Anak crown roast, a favored Solstice tradition in the Citadel, and indeed, through much of Insomnia! We’ll be serving this with a side of rice pilaf and roasted vegetables.” Despite his mild nerves, once Ignis began speaking on his chosen topic, he sounded confident and sure, as if he were giving the keynote dissertation at a symposium. “The star of the holiday meal, of course, is the crown roast. This dish has a storied legacy, but really, for our house, it’s a rather short book.” He winked. “It’s simply His Majesty King Regis’ favorite. Open and shut.” He paused, chuckling to himself at his own joke - Prompto had to stifle his own giggles! - then turned to the refrigerator behind him and pulled it open. “You’ll have to forgive me if there are a few delays. Usually, I’m able to avoid any delays for things like fetching ingredients with a little bit of internet magic, so to speak, but this is entirely live. You all get to see how I actually work.” He brought out a tray from the refrigerator, then motioned. “Gladio - ah, ladies and gentlemen, my good friend Gladiolus will be with us today helping with the camera work.”

“Hello, everyone.” Gladio chuckled from behind the camera.

“Thank you, Gladio.” Ignis motioned to the camera. “Come a little closer, won’t you?” The camera moved in, and Ignis motioned to the items on the tray. “So, as you all can see, we’ve the ingredients for the crown roast here! Two hefty Anak rib racks, fresh herbs and garlic, and a bit of sherry vinegar. I’ll begin by turning my oven to 375 to preheat, and then, ready your good knives and some butcher’s twine. This dish takes some preparation, but I assure you, it’s worth the effort.”

Prompto sipped at his cocoa as Ignis demonstrated a technique called “Frenching” the rib bones by cutting away the fat and using a piece of twine twisted around the bone to clean them of all meat and gristle. He took a few notes as Ignis worked, stripping the herbs from their stems with ease using the back of a knife and crushing the garlic to pieces with one firm hand slammed down onto a bench scraper. Prompto got a thrill at his energy as he moved through the kitchen, crushing the herbs and garlic into a paste by crushing it all together in a mortar and pestle. He explained his knives as he rotated between them. 

“Each blade type has a different purpose. I prefer serrated blades for soft things with a thick skin, such as tomatoes or fresh bread, as it can cut through the items without tearing them, and paring knives for intricate work such as peeling vegetables in hand or deveining shrimp. The fine blade of this boning knife is perfect for removing bones from chickatrice or peeling bits of excess fat off of a roast.” Ignis held up a blade shaped like a half-moon with two handles. “However, this mincing knife, or lunellum, while not part of a traditional knife set, really gives me the _edge_ in chopping herbs.” He chuckled merrily to himself as he tore through a sprig of thyme. Prompto giggled too, then kept taking notes on the different knives.

Ignis finished tying off the crown rack, then put it in the oven. “With the star of our show in place, let’s begin preparing the vegetables.” He took up a carrot and began to peel, talking as he worked: “We’re going to cut the carrots into french-fry shapes, a julienne, and our sweet potatoes into slightly larger cubes.” Prompto marveled at his quick hands as he flicked the peeler down the carrot, quicker than any machine, sure and confident. 

It was approximately then that Noctis wandered on camera, wearing pajama pants with chocobo feathers on them and no shirt, his appearance announced only by a gruff “Uh, Noct?” from behind the camera. Ignis flicked his eyes over to Noctis, and strangled a surprised noise.

“Ah, your Highness. Good morning.” Ignis cleared his throat. “Dear viewers, your Prince, who, surprise surprise, is as human as the rest of us.”

“Mornin’, Specs.” Noctis yawned. Prompto tittered to himself as the chat went crazy. “Filming that thing for your blog, right?”

“Indeed.” Ignis couldn’t seem to bear to look at Noctis as he reached under the kitchen island and took out a box of Carbuncle Charms and a large cereal bowl.

“Working on some veggies?” Noctis poured himself a big bowl. “You know I’m not eating those, right?” He then began to pick all of the cereal pieces out of the cereal, leaving only the marshmallows.

“Ah.” Ignis worked a little faster, chewing the inside of his mouth. Prompto reached for his phone to scold Noctis, except that would mean texting Noctis and having Noctis texting him back on Ignis’ livestream! “Well, I’m certain your father will appreciate them.”

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/185425540@N02/49267426352/in/dateposted-public/)

“Mm. Yeah, he will.” Noctis smiled, then grabbed the milk out of the refrigerator and poured it onto his marshmallows. “So, you’re just gonna stand there and peel?”

“It is a work-along livestream.” Ignis laughed sheepishly as he worked: “However, I’m afraid just watching me stand here and peel will get boring terribly quick, so I’ve come up with a bit of a plan to keep my dear viewers entertained while I do the boring bits.”

Prompto wished he could tell Ignis that he was fine just watching Ignis’ nimble hands work for however long it took, but Ignis went on: “Now, I’d like to begin by saying that while I don’t have time to respond to all of my fanmail - or, to be embarrassingly honest, _any_ of my fanmail - I do read every letter, and I love every single one.” 

It was approximately then that Prompto wished he could die. It was also approximately then that Prompto saw Noctis slip his phone out of his pajama pants pocket and tap the screen on his lap, and his phone buzzed:

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/185425540@N02/49271818246/in/dateposted-public/)

Prompto quickly texted back: 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/185425540@N02/49272014472/in/dateposted-public/)

Then, he intently listened, sipping on his cocoa, as Ignis went on:

“I’ve received quite a few questions from many of you! I’d like to answer some of those as I go.”

Ignis paused in peeling and pulled a piece of paper that had been sitting innocuously on the counter, almost invisible, a little closer. “Let’s see. Ah, so, many of you have asked where I trained. I actually have not gone to culinary school, but I received skill lessons from the professional chefs in the Citadel kitchen and advice from the more experienced. Otherwise, my knowledge is based on theory reading and observation of experts. I’m generally self-taught.”

Gladio interrupted from behind the camera, chuckling, “He teaches others now. Private lessons if you ask nice enough. One of these days, my sister will learn when to take the muffins out of the oven.”

“Indeed!” Ignis laughed a little. “And what else - ah. The best way for one to get motivated about cooking is to be results motivated! There was a time I didn’t enjoy cooking, but I became enthused when I was able to share the results with my, ahem, test subjects.” Ignis’ eyes twinkled as he glanced over to Noctis again. Noctis scooped down another bite of milk-soaked marshmallows. 

“Yeah, I’m a real science experiment.” He licked his lips. “You know most kids my age eat like I do, right?”

“Ah, that’s not entirely true. Many of my readers are younger people like us who want to learn to cook.” Ignis looked directly into the camera, and Gladio snickered.

“Oh, here we go. Gonna talk about your favorite fanboy?”

“Gladio.” Ignis cleared his throat - was he blushing? - and looked back at the carrot he was peeling. “I do appreciate all of my fans, but I wish to make special mention of one of you, who’s been sending me letters every week for the last few years.”

Prompto almost choked on his cocoa.

“There’s a certain young man, who will remain unnamed for privacy purposes, who has been writing to me as he’s been learning to cook. He’s even sent photographs of my recipes! Nicely taken photographs, at that. Eosgram-quality!” Ignis laughed merrily, and Noctis rolled his eyes. Prompto saw him texting again, and his phone buzzed:

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/185425540@N02/49272014447/in/dateposted-public/)

Prompto’s face was as hot as Ignis’ oven as Ignis, still smiling fondly as he worked, went on: “He told me he wanted to be healthier so he could make friends, after a boy he admired at school told him he was ‘heavy.’”

Noctis frowned on screen, staring into the middle distance for a second, then texted Prompto again:

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/185425540@N02/49271818186/in/dateposted-public/)

Prompto moaned in embarrassment, pressing one of the couch cushions to the bottom half of his face and trying to smother himself without missing a second of the stream. Gladio, still hiding behind the camera, chuckled.

“How old is he?”

“About Noct’s age, actually.”

Gladio made an unhappy noise. “Don’t think I like the idea of any kid that young going on a diet. I mean, Noct’s fifteen and still growing into some of his puppy fat.” Noctis made a face, and Prompto could nearly imagine the cross look Gladio was giving him: “Not like you won’t gain more if you eat nothing but junk, though.”

“I’m fine,” Noctis grumbled back, then texted again:

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/185425540@N02/49272014432/in/dateposted-public/)

Prompto decided it was wise to start getting honest, and hurried a text back:

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/185425540@N02/49271818101/in/dateposted-public/)

Noctis was obviously reading his texts on screen, brow all screwed up as Ignis kept going: “My recipes promote a healthier lifestyle, not a diet. Some young people lack the guidance to know how to feed themselves, and I believe that is what that young man sought.”

Prompto hugged the pillow he’d been smothering himself with, answering: “I just needed a little help.”

“Your questions,” Ignis went on, casually peeling his way around a potato as Prompto felt his heart getting stripped open, “or, I should say, this young man’s questions helped me to think about how an absolute novice might approach some of my recipes. After all, I shouldn’t expect the average home cook to know a batonnet from a julienne! I owe it to you all to explain.” 

Prompto’s phone buzzed on his thigh:

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/185425540@N02/49271818076/in/dateposted-public/)

He couldn’t tear his eyes away, really.

“I’ve wanted to answer your letters,” Ignis said, as a delicata squash was turned to ribbons under his knife, “but after missing so many, I had no idea what to say. So, let me say this: I’m very proud of you.”

Prompto’s eyes burned with tears. Ignis kept his gaze low.

“I’m proud of you, both of your improving skills and your healthier lifestyle. I truly admire your efforts.” He finished by pouring all of the vegetables into a roasting pan and drizzling them with a tablespoon of olive oil, then tossed them. “I hope you get to enjoy this holiday with your most beloved, and know that I admire you. I do hope, most sincerely, that if you’re able to visit me at one of my signings, you kindly do so, so I have the privilege of signing your book and shaking your hand.”

“Specs,” Noctis piped up suddenly, still looking at his phone. “You said he takes photos? Lemme see.” 

Ignis looked over at him, frowning. “Noctis?”

“I wanna see your fanboy’s pictures!” Noctis hopped off of the breakfast nook stool and went to where Ignis’ computer was open, and Gladio turned the camera to follow him. “He e-mails them to you?”

“Don’t be nosy!” Ignis put his knife down and chased Noctis. “If you do want to see - here. I’ve saved a separate folder with all of his photographs.”

Prompto gaped as he heard Ignis clicking on something, and realized Noctis was looking at all of the photos. Gladio left the camera on a tripod and went over to look. Ignis spoke quietly, “Here, one moment - ah, yes. Here’s an older photograph… and here. He sent a recent photograph of himself, now that he’s gotten healthier.”

Prompto felt his heart explode. He could see Noctis’ eyes go wide on-screen, and Gladio furrowed his brow for a moment, then whistled.

“Damn! He’s got a runner’s bod!” Gladio turned back to the main camera and grinned, polishing one bicep. “Hey, kid, if you’re watching, don’t skip pecs and lats day!” He flexed again and winked for the camera. “Hey, you think I could do a workout show for your healthy fans, Igs?”

“Gladiolus,” Ignis chided, but Prompto couldn’t even hear him as his phone buzzed a dozen times in his pocket.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/185425540@N02/49271348058/in/dateposted-public/)

Prompto whined and tried to smother his phone, just as Noctis turned to Ignis. “Hey, Iggy.” Ignis snapped out of scolding Gladio and turned to him. “I bet he’s watching. Do you want to say Happy Solstice to him? Maybe he’ll _get in the chat_ -” Noctis looked directly at the camera- “ _and you can talk to him._ ”

Prompto moaned. The chat suddenly went dead silent, the scroll bar freezing still in an instant. Ignis, on screen, cleared his throat.

“Er. I… I won’t say your name. But Happy Solstice. I hope you’re enjoying it with your family.” Ignis smiled fondly, eyelids crinkling at the edges, and Prompto’s heart crumpled like an egg cracked against a counter. “Please send me photographs of whatever you cook. I’d dearly love to see your rendition of my work.”

Prompto sucked in air, feeling as if he’d forgotten how to breathe. He’d only gotten this far by pretending Ignis hadn’t known he was there, and now, there he was, smiling just for him as if he were the only other person in the universe.

He put his cocoa aside and typed in the chat:

_“Hi Mr. Scientia! Happy Solstice! My family’s away so I don’t have anyone to cook for this year, and it’d be a lot of food for me to eat on my own, so this year I’m just going to watch you. When I have people to share this with, I promise I’ll make your roast and send you lots of photos! I hope you and Prince Noctis and all your family and friends have a Happy Solstice!”_

Prompto watched Ignis read his message, mouthing a few of the words, his brow wrinkling up. Then, he murmured, low and serious, “Happy Solstice indeed. Please keep watching me.” Then, Ignis turned around, schooling his expression. “I do believe I promised everybody a rice pilaf. Noctis, would you kindly go put a shirt on and possibly bathe, I don’t believe your father would appreciate your current appearance.”

Noctis was texting, and Prompto could see his messages popping up in their messenger window, _“dude u said mr. scientia,” “ur alone? Ur folks are still gone? Wtf” “seriously dude i’m gunna call you as soon as I’m out the shower we gotta talk about this”_ but Prompto couldn’t bear to answer as Ignis went on, as Gladio returned to his place behind the camera, and Prompto melted into his own embarrassment as Ignis turned carrots into a brunoise so tiny Noctis would never find them in the rice.

* * *

The livestream went on. Noctis returned to snark at Ignis as he cooked the rice pilaf and mixed up a cake batter, and Ignis cheerfully bantered right back at him. There was no further mention of Prompto or his letters. The stream ended with Ignis pulling a beautiful cake out of the oven and promising to post a video of how to frost it once it had cooled, and wished everyone a Merry Solstice, like a TV chef. Prompto knew it was too early for dinner, but watching Ignis make his feast kind of made him want his, even if the grocery store meal wouldn’t hold a candle to Ignis’ spread. He could dream, anyway. 

It was super nice to watch Ignis and Noctis tease each other as Ignis made a beautiful meal, and dream of maybe sharing a feast like that with his friends. Of being able to make something he could show Noctis proudly, because they were friends and it’d be nice to share his work with his friend.

Prompto grimaced at the thought of Noctis. 

Noctis hadn’t called him like he promised, but he probably would. He hadn’t seemed angry, just surprised. Prompto figured Noctis would call once the Solstice holiday was over and he’d find some way to explain all of this away. He also kept telling himself that so he wouldn’t have a panic attack on the holiday. 

It was right when he was putting his meal in the microwave that there was a knock on the door. Prompto hit start and ran to answer the door, bewildered as to who might be visiting on this day, at this time of day. He opened the door only to be grabbed by the shoulders and found himself face to face with Noctis.

“Hey, you gotta know, when I said you were heavy, it was because I couldn’t lift you, not that it was bad that you were heavy!” Noctis shook him around. “You believe that, right? Please tell me you didn’t hurt yourself because you thought I thought-”

“Noct,” Gladio said from behind Noctis. “Chill.” Noctis stilled, looking Prompto in the eyes.

“Okay, but - we’re cool, right? You know I would have liked you no matter what, you’re cool anyway!”

“We’re cool,” Prompto said, tongue thick and voice watery. “I’m - thank you, Noct.” He sagged a little, and Noctis sighed with relief. Gladio patted him on the back.

“I had no idea you had it in ya, kid. Tell me where I can bottle that kind of grit.” He then stepped aside. “But first, I think someone else has something to say to you.”

Ten feet down the sidewalk, there stood Ignis. Live, in-person. He was in his winter jacket over his apron, trembling a little with his hands wringing in front of him. He took a tentative step forward. “Prompto Argentum, yes?” 

Prompto swallowed twice. “Um, Prompto’s fine, Mr. Scientia.”

“Ignis, please.” Ignis managed a watery smile and approached. “Er. I had wanted to say it in person, as your biggest fan-”

“Second-biggest,” both Noctis and Gladio interrupted, then shot each other similar fiery looks and began to quietly argue.

Ignis laughed uncomfortably, then turned back to Prompto, cheeks rosy pink from something other than the chilly wind. “I wanted to say I admire you. Happy Solstice.”

Prompto gathered up all of his nerves, and made himself look Ignis in the eyes. “I admire you too. Happy Solstice, Ign-”

The microwave went off from within the house. Ignis’ eyes went from warm and affectionate to hawklike and focused. “Gladiolus, whatever Prompto just made for himself, kindly wrap and return to his refrigerator. Noctis, please go and fetch Prompto’s coat. Prompto, I am formally inviting you to our Solstice Dinner as my personal guest.”

“Buh-” Prompto didn’t have a chance to speak as Gladio strode past him, grumbling about ‘no buddy of mine eating frozen food on the Solstice,’ and Noctis grabbed Prompto’s coat off of the banister and tossed it onto his shoulders.

“C’mon, dude,” Noctis said into his ear. “Nobody should be alone, and Iggy made a lot of food. Dad already said it’s cool, he wants to meet you anyway.”

“I’m - are you sure?” Prompto thought he was going to cry again, but Ignis put his arm around his shoulder as Noctis called ‘shotgun’ and ran for the car.

“More than certain. I only regret not responding to your letters sooner.” Ignis, expression warm and fond again, led him towards the sedan. “Nobody should be alone;, people gain too much from their connections to isolate themselves. In a way, I learned as much from you as you did from me.” He smiled, eyes crinkling up at the edges, and Prompto melted all over again. 

“Do you mean that?”

“Yes! It’s precisely as I said.” Ignis squeezed his hand. “Your questions helped me reconsider my perspective on how I write my recipes, how I instruct people. I fear I get caught up in my own head, and forget how others might think.” He chuckled nervously and tapped his cranium. “I suppose I get a little jammed up in my train of thought sometimes.” He turned and opened the car door. “I’d love to, as they say, _jam_ with you and get out of my own mind a little.” 

“I can’t say I don’t understand! I just hope I don’t make your other fans _jelly_.” Prompto chuckled and got in the car. “If I helped, then I’m really happy I could help you.”

“You did help, you can’t imagine. Or, perhaps you could.” Ignis winked as he got into the car and sat alongside him. “Tell me, have you ever dreamed of being part of a cooking show?”

* * *

The day after the new year, Prompto was basically the most welcome person to ever visit Noctis’ apartment. The door guards knew him by name, face, and reputation. Everyone he walked by was happier to see him than they were the pizza guy.

So being himself made him a popular guy. Who knew?

Noctis and Gladio were basically his best buddies now - not like Noctis hadn't already been, but he was somehow even better now. Gladio was his workout partner, who’d sometimes show up at his place on weekends now to take him jogging, and he was already chatting Prompto up about trying out for Crownsguard training, saying, “Seriously, nobody’s tried for Noctis like you have, except me and Iggy, but that’s our jobs.”

Noctis wanted him over after school every day to study, or at least that was the excuse. Prompto had sort of realized Noctis wanted to keep Prompto at his place as much as possible because he had figured out Prompto’s parents were basically never home, and Noctis liked the thought of Prompto being home alone about as much as Prompto did - which was basically not at all. Noctis seemed much happier with Prompto studying with him, and Prompto was happy at Noctis’ side. (One of these days he’d tell him about that promise he’d made to Lady Lunafreya, but not yet. For now, he would just stick with staying with him for as long as he could, possibly forever.)

As for Ignis?

Ignis was happier to see him than anyone ever had been, perking up at the sight of him as he entered Noctis’ apartment, often with a grocery bag in his hands.

“Ah, Prompto, you’re early!” Ignis was full of bombast and cheer, exactly as personable as he was on camera. “Noctis, I’m borrowing my sous-chef from you.”

Noctis groaned, but paused the game he and Prompto were playing. “Fine, I gotta finish my homework anyway.” He stuck his tongue out and clapped Prompto on the shoulder. “Try and keep the vegetables out of my portion, okay? I know Iggy thinks he’s being sneaky, but he’s not.” Noctis put his controller back, and Prompto hopped up and went to join Ignis at Noctis’ counter. 

Ignis smiled and handed Prompto a hat, which he tucked down over his hair, then went to wash his hands. “Did you have a chance to look over my recipe and notes?”

“I did it during free period!” Prompto toweled his hands off. “Let’s make a job outta some squab!”

Ignis laughed. “Now, now, let’s not _fly_ off the handle; after all, the birds never did!” He began to set out his knives. “Did you have any questions?”

“One, yeah!” Prompto tied on the red apron Ignis had given him, a contrast to Ignis’ stark black. “When you’re cooking the aromatics down, how’s a sweat different from a saute?”

“Ah, an excellent question! With a _sweat_ , there’s not enough heat to brown the vegetables. Sauteing will brown and color the vegetables. Watch the onions while sweating; they should just go translucent, rather than begin to caramelize.” Ignis made a few notes on his receipt. “Ironically, for a sweat, you _turn down the heat_ , rather than most things that make you sweat!” He chuckled, and Prompto grinned and sidled up to look over his notes.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/185425540@N02/49267426212/in/dateposted-public/)

Prompto was Ignis’ new co-host. He would help Ignis plan his episodes by asking questions about the recipe as the “voice of the true home cook,” as Ignis put it, and Ignis now framed the openings of their episodes as a conversation, Ignis talking about the dish and Prompto cheerfully asking questions. They had fans - Prompto knew, because he read the fanmail. He and Ignis made a great team.

As Prompto was starting to discover, they made for much better than that. 

“We should start planning our Valentine’s Day episode.” Ignis looked fondly over to Prompto. “I was hoping to recommend a healthful dessert - an indulgence, to be certain, but a mindful one.” His eyes glimmered. “I had hoped you would taste test for me.”

“Would I!” Prompto beamed, bouncing on his heels. Ignis’ delight was subdued, but plain in his face and bold in his eyes, greener in person than they’d ever been on a screen.

Prompto seemed to spend most nights here, hanging out with Noctis, Gladio, and Ignis all together, or at Ignis’ apartment, helping Ignis try new recipes and working on scripts. Ignis was getting bolder, too - inviting Prompto on ‘research’ visits to restaurants to try their recipes so they could adapt them into versions they could sneak vegetables into to trick Noctis, or healthier versions, at least. Prompto was reasonably certain that Ignis just wanted to buy him lunch. Prompto wanted Ignis to buy him lunch.

Prompto wanted a lot more from Ignis. He thought Ignis just might have wanted the same. On Valentine’s Day, he was going to find out.

When Noctis and Gladio gathered around the dinner table and Prompto and Ignis served roasted squab with mashed potato (and butternut squash) puree to gratitude (and only one suspicious look from Noctis), Prompto couldn’t be more grateful for what he had. He had a great deal to learn and every day he spent with his new friends filled his heart more and more, but his life had never been so colorful before.

From the orange of a carrot ragout to the green of Ignis’ eyes, to the red of his cheeks when he asked Ignis to be more than friends and the pink of Ignis’ soft lips when they touched his, Prompto was happy to live in color.

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Fake text messages were created using https://iphone.ndtan.net/


End file.
